


The New Eye

by MisterStalker, tiny_freakin_head



Series: Classics [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Depression, Eye Injury, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Missing Eye, Misunderstandings, Stitches, handjob, medical nonsense, prosthetic eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterStalker/pseuds/MisterStalker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Falk is in need of medical care, but there is more to heal than just his eye.





	The New Eye

Falk felt like a ghost haunting the surgery. He was hiding here almost a week now, becoming invisible whenever a team mate came in, and sometimes invisible when he wanted to sulk in silence, or not see his face on the shining surfaces around him. A table rattled as he walked into it. His cloak was undone and he was visible, standing in the middle of the surgery with Katsu. He sighed. Becoming adjusted to one eye was a challenge, he walked into things on his left side too often. He looked to Katsu, one cold grey eye, and one glass ball to occupy the space, and a path of tidy black stitches holding a long jagged cut. "Maybe there's something else you can try." Spy suggested, with hope that he was not disfigured permanently.

Katsu gave his friend a sympathetic look. He knew the pain of a scar on the face, of healing. And he knew it was hard on Falk, to not only come to terms with the scar but also the loss of his eye. “Once Connagher has come up with a prototype, we can fix your sight,” Katsu knew that wasn’t what Spy wanted to hear. “The scar will fade with time. Scar tissue is difficult, the medigun can’t do anything for it.” He sat at his desk. “You need to take your time adjusting.”

Katsu was correct, Spy didn't want to hear it. He paced and expressed the energy of his frustration. But he didn't throw things or push over tables- he couldn't risk someone checking in on Katsu due to the noise. And he didn't leave. He only paced, in silence. "I don't understand. You fixed my eye when it was weak. And now that I'm injured you can't do it?" He knew he was making it too simple. He didn't have an eye to heal. He touched the jagged deep line that started over his eyebrow and ended over the opposite side chin. The stitches were sharp and unfriendly against his fingers. So different from the soft unflawed skin. "And the stitches. When are they ready to be removed?" He hoped somehow that when they were removed the scar would not be noticeable.

Katsu watched him pace, but did nothing to stop him. He was sure Spy would feel better if he allowed himself to go to the gym or the range, to do something active, but he wouldn't leave the infirmary. He was upset about his scar and didn't want anyone to see him. "I wish you would stop touching it," Katsu's voice was flat with annoyance. "It's only been three days, give it at least another two. It will heal, the scar will fade. It will just take time. I promise you if the scar is red, I can work on it, but if it's pale, there is nothing I can do." Katsu looked Spy's face over, studying the temporary prosthetic. It didn't seem to bother the man, which was a positive sign. If he could get used to this, he could adjust to a more useful prosthetic. "I can still fix your eye. There isn't nerve damage, so Connagher's prosthetic eye will connect to your nerves and you will see normally again. But the scar won't be as easy."

The spy wanted to go through respawn and return with a faded scar, when he felt impatient. But he knew that if he went to respawn the scar would be white, like all of his other respawn scars. And then Katsu could do nothing to change it if it was still horrible. Falk bristled at being told not to touch the stitches. He answered with a snide remark. "I understand why you wear a mask now. I'll wear a mask more often also if this is permanent "

Katsu was sure Spy's scar would fade eventually, they always did. If he'd just be patient and let it heal naturally, it might be less severe than if he respawned. At Spy's words, Katsu's eyes hardened. "You know that is not why I wear a mask." His words were clipped and angry. "If you touch it, it is more likely to get infected, and the scar is more likely to be visible." He paused briefly, his voice softening. "I am only trying to help you."

Spy forced his hand down and glared. The expression looked double vicious with the nasty stitches. A rational part of him knew that he was angry at the situation and that Katsu was simply the only person around to show any anger to. He knew he wasn't angry at Katsu. He was thankful to Katsu to let him stay here and not tell anyone. He was silent for a while again, thinking. "If Connagher can't make an eye, I can't stay here." Falk stated. "I mean, with the team. On this base." It wasn't a threat, but a very honest statement, "we all have battle scars. But there are no disabled mercenaries here."

Katsu shook his head. "You will adjust to having one eye quickly. But I believe you won't have to," he assured him. "Our Engineer is very talented, and your eye socket is in good shape." Katsu knew that Spy was just angry at life at the moment, but that didn't mean he wanted to take the man's abuse. "Why don't you see Greg? I'm sure you'd feel better, with some comfort." Katsu may be a good doctor, but his bedside manner wasn't the most comforting. He didn't expect Spy to agree to see his lover. He was practically sulking, afraid of being shunned.

Spy shook his head, refusing that. "No... I can't see Greg like this. This is almost as bad as the state I appeared to you." He wasn't sure how to see his partner. Falk was certain that the loving man would pour affection on him at first. Greg might kiss his scarred lips and touch his chin. But Greg and Bea both might start to miss the features they knew, and they might start to look away during sex, and then start to be too busy for sex, and then stop considering the spy a partner at all. The possible rejection scared him. With worry, he touched with the stitches on his chin without thinking. Falk put down his hand, "what did you tell Connagher? How much does he know about this?"

"Greg has seen injuries before. I'm sure he'll be worried if you continue to avoid him." Katsu was sure that no one would reject Spy. His lovers showed their care for him in their own way. Greg with outward affection and words, Bea with sex and violence. Katsu stood, reaching out to take Falk's hand. "Stop touching it," he chided. "Connagher knows your eye is hurt, nothing more. I know you don't want anyone to know what happened. But we are a team, they will find out soon enough." Unless Spy intended to run. It was entirely possible. Katsu was praying he'd face his fear instead. It would hurt everyone to lose Spy.

Spy let the Medic take his hand, but frowned at the correction. "It isn't so easy to simply 'stop touching it.' You have your scar since before you came here, and I still see you lick it when you're thinking."

The door opened and Falk flinched, gripping his watch in an effort to cloak immediately. But Connagher, in the doorway, saw him already. 

The Texan was walking in carrying a box in his arms, "Howdy Doc. I have a couple prototypes, but I don't expect you to be impressed by-" he stopped when he saw spy. 

Falk's back was turned to the engineer, and he was leaving to the back of the infirmary for privacy. He trusted Katsu more than anyone else currently, and didn't plan to allow any company but Katsu. 

Connagher cleared his throat and forced himself to look to Katsu again. "Well, I don't expect you to be impressed by the medical end of this. I need your expertise."

Katsu had to admit, Spy was right. Imperfections were hard to leave alone. Especially when they were new ones. It would take Spy time to get used to the scar, and until he was used to it, he was bound to feel for it. Seeing that Spy intended to flee from their teammate, Katsu let him go, greeting the Engineer instead. There was a room in the back of the infirmary where Katsu often slept; it was meant to be an office but he kept a cot in there for when he was working late. 

"I'll help in any way I can," Katsu told Engineer. Together they discussed attachments and nerves and the benefits of different shapes of prosthetics. By the end, Katsu was satisfied that Spy would be getting something that would make his monocular unneeded, an eye that could see in the dark, and greater distances. It would take some adjusting to get used to it, but Katsu was positive it would work. If only it were so easy to fix the man's injured pride.

Connagher sat back to inspect the almost finished prototype. "It's a darn work of art, what we made. He could be more excited, instead of sittin' back there cryin'." Of course, Connagher had a different relationship with body modifying. He replaced bad hips with a robotic pair of legs, and medical help from Katsu. He closed his hand around the mechanical eye ball. "Can you give me a few more days to tinker? Let's say, when the stitches are out, the new eye goes in. Then he might let me get a proper look at him and test this thing." Maybe Katsu noticed that Spy only let the medic see him . Both the engineer and medic were helping him, but wounded in pride and more, Falk only lowered his guard for Katsu. Connagher stood and tossed the prototype in the air and caught it. "See you around, doc." And he took his leave.

Seconds after the door shut, spy uncloaked, revealing himself to sit in the seat Connagher left. His arms were crossed loosely and his face turned to the door so the worst of his scars were almost fully hidden. "A few more days?" He was eager to remove the stitches but also afraid of what he might find. Falk turned to Katsu, and spoke candidly: no pouting, no rude remarks, only his vulnerability. "I'm worried sick, Katsu. May I ask for your company? That you ignore work and let me talk to you, and not become lost in my own thoughts?" He put his open hands on Katsu's desk. A platonic, but affectionate gesture to ask for Katsu's hand, for support.

Katsu bid Connagher goodnight. He was excited for Spy to test the new eye. It would be quite the feat for both himself and the Engineer. 

"A few more days," he agreed. Spy was impatient to get the stitches out, and Katsu could understand that. Even though he had eventually stitched his lip, the scar was wide from healing partially without stitches. He hadn't had the time during the chaos that was going on then. He wasn't fond of his own scar, for his own reasons. Not because he was particularly vain, or because he thought he might be rejected, but because it was a reminder of a mistake, and of a terrible time in his life. Katsu met Falk’s eyes, surprised to hear such vulnerability from the proud and intensely private Spy. “Of course. My other work can wait, you need my attention now,” he assured Spy. He offered him his hand in return. Katsu was rarely one for touching. Not because he didn’t enjoy it, but his quiet nature and discomfort when it came to his own emotions made connecting with his team difficult. “I know this is hard. I will do everything I can for you,” he promised.

Falk was glad that Katsu didn't pull away. No one on the team treated him badly due to his gay relationship. But a few might be cautious of holding his hand or any sign of affection. And after the night of poker, when Spy confessed sexual feelings for Katsu, he was only grateful the medic agreed to comfort him and share his space. Falk liked to think he knew everything about Katsu's scar after that same night, but he knew so little. He commented, in ignorance, "Your fellow experience is valuable. But this is different. You won your knife fight. I lost mine. This is a badge of my defeat."

Katsu was glad to touch Spy, it was nice to feel some kind of physical affection. He wasn't good at reaching out for it, but it was welcome. He frowned as Spy spoke. "I may have killed him, and not been killed myself, but his death ruined my life. I had to leave my home, everyone I'd ever known, all my future plans were gone." He sighed. "If I hadn't been offered a job here, I don't know where I'd be now." He was grateful for his place here, knowing that things could have turned out far worse. Here he could dabble in medicine that was right on the edge of miracles. He'd replaced Spy's heart, something that had never been done before by anyone, not even attempted, as far as he knew.

"Spy, I know you don't want a reminder of what happened, but this is part of you now. You will have to come to terms with it eventually. But we don't have to talk about it now, if you would rather have a distraction from it."

Spy listened in silence. It put the situation in perspective. It was easy for Falk to let himself believe this life was over: if he embarrassed himself as a spy he preferred to disappear in the night and not wait to be dismissed after walking into things. But that decision, Spy was making. The scar on Katsu's lip happened when he lost his home country, his colleagues, his connections, his family, his everything but a medical degree. He realised that he must appear rather silly. He didn't lose anything yet. "I never knew you lost so much in that fight." Spy finally spoke. His own pain seemed less present now, as he reasoned with himself. He never lost in such a serious way to a spy before. "It isn't any fun to be on the wrong end of my favourite weapon. I'm sure you understand. The scalpel..."

Katsu squeezed Spy's hand, gently. Spy seemed to be less focused on himself now, which he appreciated. "You're not going to lose anything, if I can help it," he assured Spy. "I know it isn't something you'll ever look back on fondly," he smiled that crooked smile of his, the smile only reaching the side of his mouth without the cut. The scar quirked when he gave a real smile and he found it annoying. "I understand," he agreed. He'd not been pleased to work with a scalpel for a short time after, but had adjusted. He was honestly glad in some ways that it had been a scalpel. It was small and short enough to not kill him, and sharp enough that it hadn't hurt at first, hadn't hurt until after the adrenaline had worn off. "What can I do to keep you occupied?" Katsu asked. He didn't want Spy to fall back into his depression, or into anger.

Spy smirked and quickly regretted it. He took his hand from Katsu to touch his lip gently. He wanted to stretch his legs and leave the base. If he was hiding out with Connagher, he might. But Katsu brought unwelcome attention in public recently because he was Japanese. He finally shrugged, "the medication you gave me for pain must be gone from my body now. Maybe some of the sake Greg smuggled in?"

Spy’s smirk did not escape Katsu’s notice, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. Katsu still had a nearly full bottle from Greg’s last gift of sake. He went to his back room to pull it out. “It might sting your lip,” he warned, but poured them each a glass anyway.

Spy followed the Medic to the back room, blocking the exit although casually, leaning on the door's frame. "Let's stay here, in the back. It's more private. We can relax." None of Katsu's office was made to entertain guests, only patients. Yet, Falk made himself comfortable and accepted one of the small cups. "Your bottle is almost full." He commented, "Do you dislike the Sake? Or are you the type to save your drink for something special?" Spy was thinking about how he wanted to keep his mind occupied. Of course, he would never simply state it, transparently, that he wanted a sexual distraction. He was sure Katsu would not respond to such a bold advance either, the medic needed to be handled carefully.

Katsu nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed. There was only one chair in the little room, and he happily gave it to Falk. "I want it to last," he admitted, "I had not had any in a long time before Greg got me that bottle. It is special." Still, he had no qualms about sharing it, especially when Spy was feeling so low. Katsu was struggling to come up with ways to occupy his friend. He wanted to suggest they play poker with Simo, but even with their most secretive and quiet friend, Spy was likely to want to hide his scar. And Katsu was not one to give away Simo's secrets and tell Falk that Simo had quite the scar from being shot in the head. He hid it well with his hood, and as far as Katsu knew, he was the only one who knew about it.

The Spy was thinking of the poker games also, but for a very different reason. It was how he told Katsu of his sexual interest in him. At the time it seemed to only embarrass him, but Falk hoped that time might open Katsu's mind. "Drinks are meant to be enjoyed in good company." Spy suggested. "In company you can relax with, and be yourself." Finding the words for gently nudging and commenting on the closeness of their friendship, ready to nudge forward into something less intimate was easy. But he was nervous that any subtle expression of flirtation might be monstrous. He swallowed the small cup amount of Sake, carefully to not allow it touching his lip. He let the burning taste give him courage. Spy stood up from his seat and sat beside Katsu on his bed. He sat near enough that their knees touched, but he pretended not to notice. Instead he gestured to the nightstand and the bottle of sake there, his cup in his hand. "May I?"

Katsu agreed, drinks were meant for company. Drinking alone had different connotations and he generally avoided it. He was alone often, comfortable in solitude, but drinking by himself sounded... depressing. He generally only drank when they played poker together, or rarely, when the entire team was together. Spy mentioned that they could relax together, be themselves, and Katsu felt a warm glow at the thought. Spy was comfortable enough around him to be open, to be honest. It was a good thought. Falk's knee touched his and he did much the same as the Spy, pretending it wasn't the only thing he was focused on. He drank his sake, but didn't move away from the touch. It was far more welcome than he wanted to admit. "Of course," he gestured to the bottle, happy to share as much as Spy wanted to drink. He was suddenly very aware of his body. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands other than hold his cup. If he put his hand down on the bed it would be close enough to touch Falk's thigh.

The spy leaned in closer to the medic to reach past him and take the bottle. He only assumed the Japanese man let him grab it himself because he welcomed being closer. Falk was very vigilant of Katsu's behavior now. He searched for any sign of disgust or dislike but found the man to only be nervous. He served them both and set down the bottle. He put his hand on Katsu's knee when he sat up. He spoke quietly, insisting that Katsu remain near to him to listen. "This should be enough, I think, to give us the courage to enjoy our company a little closer."

Katsu’s heart was beating quickly, so hard it felt like Spy would be able to hear it. Even just having him reach past him was good, he could smell him, though his usual comforting smell was slightly dampened by the smell of disinfectant. Then Falk’s hand settled on his knee and Katsu could feel the warmth of his skin even through his pants. He licked his lip, a little nervous twitch. This was a lot more attention and physical contact than he was used to. Katsu nodded as Spy mentioned the drink giving them courage. If this kept up he’d need it. He sipped his sake, wishing they could have warmed it first. It was fine cold, but better warm. Katsu finally settled his free hand right up against Falk’s thigh, just barely touching. Was the man so close to him for comfort? What was he after?

Falk read the silence to mean that Katsu only needed more convincing. "I know it's uncommon for 'bedside manner' to put the doctor in bed with the patient." Falk suggested, "But you don't mind, do you?" He slowed down, but did not back off. His hand was still on Katsu's knee, Katsu's hand beside his thigh but too nervous to intentionally touch him. He let the medic take it all in while he savoured the smell of sake, holding the cup at his lips.

“No, of course not. You know you’re welcome here, with me,” he wasn’t entirely sure how he meant that he was welcome, but he did mean it. Feeling bold, Katsu put his hand on Falk’s, gently. He was starting to think he was reading this correctly as flirtation. He knew Spy had had fantasies about him, but Spy had never tried anything with him, never pushed for more. Katsu had assumed that perhaps the fantasies were just in the past and not something Spy was still interested in. This night seemed to be proving him wrong.

Falk squeezed Katsu's leg gently, encouraged by the hand. He lowered his cup now, thinking more about the man beside him than the drink they share. "I'm glad." Falk assured, his voice becoming more smooth, more bed-room. From what he could tell, Katsu didn't think about the scar on his face at all. He never seemed to look at it, or force himself not to look at it. If he didn't feel the stitches tugging at his skin, Falk might forget his face changed at all. It made him more confident and bold. His hand moved up Katsu's thigh to his groin and he cupped the man through his pants to squeeze his cock and balls lightly.

Katsu leaned into Falk a little as he squeezed his leg. It was good, this contact, this attention. When his hand moved further up his thigh, Katsu’s hand reached out to grab the other man’s thigh, gasping as he fondled him. He was flushed red. He nearly spilled his sake and quickly turned to put it down before turning back to Spy. He wasn’t sure what to say, if he should say anything, but his lips parted as he looked up at a Falk. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Falk tilted his head and raised his unharmed brow, a silent question if Katsu had something to say. When Katsu said nothing, he finished his sake and placed the cup beside it's partner then unfastened the Medic's slacks to reveal his cock and touch it directly.

The Spy was fairly confident in his technique. He was not so bold as Bea, and he didn't read people as well as Bea, but he knew that most of the men on base were so starved for touch, they would agree to be touched by a man, if only to have his cock properly handled for a while. Straight or gay, Katsu permitted the sexual touches. Staring straight at the scars, he was not pulled back to awareness and repulsed. He tested the boundary a little more and pushed the medic to lay back on the bed. Falk straddled himself on top of him while unfastening his own trousers to release his cock. Long graceful fingers wrapped around both shafts and pumped them together.

This felt like a dream. Falk undressing him, touching his cock. Katsu gave a soft, “yes.” Everything seemed unreal, but so good. He happily let himself be pushed back to the bed, letting the bigger man straddle him. He took in a sharp breath as Falk revealed his own cock, flushing with excitement. He began to stroke them both together and Katsu held himself up on his elbows to watch. Finally he tore his eyes away from Spy’s hand and met his eyes. The scar and stitches didn’t register, only the intense stare; one eye grey, the other glass. He trembled a little under so much attention and pleasure all at once.

Spy rolled his hips. The position, and friction made it easy to imagine how near he was to sitting between Katsu's legs, thrusting into him. He groaned quietly and let his eyes sweep over the small frame beneath him. When he met Katsu's eyes again and saw him watching his face he felt warm. Falk was surprised how flattering it felt to be quietly admired by this man. The gaze penetrated him and he felt handsome, and unflawed. Even old scars on his chest and arms, hidden under his clothes, seemed to disappear. Falk reached forward and stroked his fingertips through Katsu's hair, and then let it down to allow the sleek black locks and few strands of grey to flow gracefully.

Falk’s eye watching him, looking him over made him feel so good, and desirable in a way he’d never felt before except in fantasies. Just the touch of another man’s hand was so much better than his own; it was so intimate and exciting. Spy reaching down to stroke his hair broke the spell and Katsu almost felt he’d been given permission to touch him in return. His hands slid over Falk’s hips enjoying a bit of exposed skin where his pants rode down, sliding his hands up under Spy’s shirt a little. He was still slow, tentative, but at least he wasn’t still.

Spy was amused to find that the gentle touch of the Medic was a gentle touch even in these sexual moments. Falk cradled Katsu's head in his hand and played with the very silly, thick hairs. He let the hands wander, interested in learning where he chose to explore. Where the hands go is where looking only isn't enough to satisfy. Falk tugged gently on the hair in his hand to communicate when he liked what his partner's hands did. Precum appeared at the tip of his cock and he smeared it across the eye of the cock using his thumb. The slick warmth brought a groan from his throat. The pumping could be more pleasurable with lubrication, but he was sure that spitting on their cocks would offend Katsu, and stopping to find lubrication in the surgery might give the medic too much time to change his mind.

Katsu wasn’t going to last much longer. His own cock was leaking precum, and his eyes fluttered closed as Falk’s thumb ran over the head of his cock. The firm tug of Spy’s fingers in his hair seemed to go straight to his groin. It did encourage his hands and they wandered over Spy’s body curiously, excited to feel and touch. Katsu bit into his lip to keep quiet, all too aware of the sounds they were making. He tilted his head back against Spy’s hand as he got closer, finally letting out a soft moan.

Spy's breathing was heavy, and interrupted only by grunts as he frottéd their cocks. He went silent when he heard the sound pulled from Katsu. The soft moan was quiet, but when the spy watched him closely he realised how near to climax he was. Falk tugged Katsu's hair and encouraged his exploring hands, "Yes, like that. It's good to feel such experienced hands on my body." Of course, by experienced he meant that he was a doctor that knew a lot of how to handle a body and how to trace the curves and edges at his fingertips.

Katsu met his eye again, his own breaths coming fast and hard. His hands came together just below Falk’s navel, before realizing he was a little in the way of Spy’s hand. Moving in tandem, his hands worked over Spy’s hips and up his sides. He wasn’t entirely sure Falk wasn’t teasing him with his comment about experienced hands, but didn’t feel up to protesting. He tried to last, tried to hold himself back, but it was too much for him and he came across his own shirt, red faced and gasping.

Falk became tense under Katsu's hands, muscles all full of anticipation for his own release now. He gasped with excitement as he watched Katsu climax in almost perfect silence. He smeared whatever semen spilled into his hand around their shafts, squeezing his cock in a hot, slick, grasp. Falk pumped very quickly now to finish with the vision of his partner's orgasm fresh in his mind. The sensation of pleasure must be almost like torture for Katsu. A dry hand was enough to bring Katsu to completion, and now the hot wet semen slicked the aggressive pumps, marking them both with his seed. Pleasure was Falk's favourite way to torture his lovers, if he did want to make them squirm or scream. He didn't pull Katsu's hair roughly, but he held it, not allowing him to squirm away yet.

Katsu bit his lip again, whining softly as Spy refused to let him pull away. It was overstimulation at this point, but he still loved the attention, the touches. He loved the feel of Spy's hand, tight and slick around him, the way his muscles tensed under his hands, even if it was torture. Spy's expression of pleasure was amazing. Katsu felt like he would remember this moment forever. His hands settled back on Spy's hips, too shy to go any nearer to his cock, but enjoying the rock of his hips, the rhythm of his thrusts. As Falk had noticed earlier, it was easy to imagine him thrusting into him properly, fucking him.

Spy was on the edge of his own climax, and the sound of Katsu's whines pushed him further. His face began to express, but was forced to stop. He couldn't bite his lip, close his eyes tightly or wrinkle his brows. The expression needed to come out and finally overflowed in the form of a about. Groaning at first, and gaining volume, unable to silence it. It finished with him saying Katsu's name while he spilled his seed into his hand and onto the clean white shirt beneath him. His semen mixed with the drying puddles on the shirt and his cock throbbed beside Katsu's cock. Falk closed his eyes and sighed deeply, but much more quietly. He let the moment wash over him a final time to appreciate the hand on his hips, the hair in his fingers and the pleasant weight of the cocks in his hand. He finally released them to bow over Katsu and roll onto his side. They laid next to each other on the bed with their trousers opened and tugged slightly down, their shirts wrinkled and pushed a little up, dripping cocks, panting chests, thudding hearts.

Katsu watched Spy struggle for a moment before starting to groan louder. He loved the sounds Spy was making, and when he came saying Katsu's name, he flushed pleasantly. He felt a wonderful glow of affection and an exhaustion he wasn't used to. His hands released Falk as he rolled off him, and he turned his head slightly to watch Spy's chest heave as he tried to regain his breath. Although he knew he hadn't actually done much, he felt an odd sense of accomplishment. Finally catching his own breath, he considered himself. Should he undress? Would Spy stay the night? He wasn't sure yet, so he hesitated with indecision.

The spy took his time and enjoyed the afterglow as long as it lasted. The pleasant feelings completely displaced any worries about his scar. When the feelings faded, his worry seemed distant. He imagined he could sleep very peacefully tonight. If not for the unpleasant stickiness of drying semen. Falk opened turned his head to face Katsu, "Do you have an area to clean up?" He gestured to Katsu's shirt with his own semen covered hand.

He nodded, sitting up and showing Spy. There was a small bathroom at the back of the infirmary, to make it easier for patients who had to stay the night there. He still felt weak, but was also still glowing. Once Spy had gone into the bathroom he removed his shirt, still shy of showing anyone his tattoos. He fixed his pants, tucking his cock back in and doing them up. But again he wasn't sure if he ought to dress again, or strip completely. He hesitated once more, then sat on the edge of the bed as he was. He closed the bottle of sake, not wanting it to be spilled, and put it away. He lay back on the bed, still a little breathless.

Spy nodded, thinking then that maybe it didn't make sense for Katsu to have tissues or cloths to clean up after sex near his bed. Why would he? He was probably too tidy to leave things out after he played with himself. And he seemed to never have guests of this nature. Falk left the bed to go to the closet and wash himself. When he returned he saw that Katsu cleaned himself up as well. The smell of semen still lingered, but by looking no one would guess they had sex. The spy settled into the bed beside him and rested a hand on Katsu's hand. "Thank you" he murmured. These past few days they avoided sharing a bed. Falk slept during the day, or on the surgical table, sulking and giving Katsu plenty of space. But now he was waiting to see if Katsu would send him out of the bed or let him share his bed tonight.

Spy thanked him and Katsu just nodded, not sure how to respond. It had clearly helped Spy feel more comfortable with his scar, and Katsu was glad he’d been able to help. Katsu finally came out and asked. “Do you want to stay?” he’d let Spy sleep in his bed before, but they hadn’t slept together, that was different.

Falk appeared a little surprised by the question at first, until he realised Katsu wasn't jabbing him to leave, but possibly inviting him to stay. He thanked the man for his hospitality. For letting him into his infirmary, into his bed, into his pants even! But maybe that wasn't clear. The spy answered directly, without any innuendo or implying something, "Yes, I want to stay here, in your bed, tonight." Then he added "I want you to stay also."

Katsu gave a hint of a smile at Spy’s specifics. He finished undressing, turned off the light and got into bed with Spy. He was happy, grateful even, that Spy wanted to stay. There were lots of things he wanted to say, to ask, but none of them were easy to say. So instead he pressed himself in close to Falk and tried to sleep.

Falk rested beside Katsu peacefully. He even slept for a while. But when the medication and the alcohol fully went away and the pain in his face brought him awake, he looked around the infirmary room and knew it wasn't "home". It was time for him to stop hiding and show Greg that he was scarred, but fully alive and healthy. Thankful that Katsu comforted him and restored his courage, the spy put a gentle hand on his shoulder to appreciate him in silence. And then he slipped out of the bed in silence and traveled the dark halls to slip into his partner's bed unannounced.

Katsu woke alone and for a moment he thought last night had just been a vivid dream. He spotted his stained shirt in the laundry basket and it sank in, slowly. Reality caught up to him and his heart fell to find himself alone. Why had Spy left? He got up and forced a distraction on himself, but it wasn't enough to keep his thoughts quiet. He cleaned the infirmary, readying it for removing Falk's stitches and replacing his eye. It wasn't until a little later that he truly began to feel that Spy had only seduced him as a distraction. In a way, he'd said that, asked for it, and quite honestly. He'd regained his confidence with Katsu, so he could go to Greg and Bea. For some time Katsu wavered between blaming himself or Spy. He settled on blaming himself, as he often did when things went wrong. Spy had said he'd wanted a distraction. It had been Katsu's own fault for not picking up on exactly what that was earlier. It was his own fault for allowing it to happen. His own fault for feeling hurt. It hadn't meant anything. This was nothing to feel upset about. He'd promised Spy a distraction and he'd delivered. It had just been that he'd unwittingly offered more than he'd thought. Telling himself not to be hurt wasn't working. Katsu knew it had been foolish to hope for more than a simple fling. But he still felt blindsided, somehow. He hadn't really been thinking, just feeling, enjoying the attention, and what he'd assumed was affection. 

Still, it wasn't hard to see why Spy had left. Katsu was nothing like Greg or Bea. He wasn't confident or adventurous or exciting. He was quiet. He kept his secrets close and even his opinions were rarely offered unless they were medical in nature. He was difficult to get to know. And therefore, in his eyes, difficult to love. He knew Spy would be back in a days time to get his stitches out and his new eye in. But at least he wasn't hiding in the infirmary anymore. He was confident enough to leave it, confident that his new scar wasn't disfiguring. Katsu felt a stab of bitterness at that thought. It had taken a long time for him to accept his own scar wasn't disfiguring. 

He could do this. He would be professional: The Medic, rather than Katsu. He wouldn't let what had happened interfere with his work, or his life. Though, perhaps he'd skip the usual weekly poker games for awhile. He wasn't prepared to be honest right now, especially with Spy. And Simo was far too observant, he would pick up on any tension immediately. It was better he let himself get over this before spending quality time with those two.

***

Greg woke with Spy next to him, and at first it was so familiar he just wrapped his arm around him tighter. A few moments passed before he remembered he hadn’t seen his Falk in days and he’d been worried sick. He didn’t want to wake him, but pressed a kiss to his cheek anyways. He saw the angry black stitches on the other side of his lover’s face and winced. It looked painful and his worry turned to sympathy and love. Falk had stayed away, whether it was on purpose or not, Greg had sorely missed him.

Although Falk returned to his familiar bed, his mind was with Katsu. Despite the cold and lonely feelings Katsu had, Falk felt warm. He thought about how the smaller man moved under his hands so naturally and responded immediately. He thought about how Katsu saw past the scars so easily. Their evening together seemed natural, like the step to satisfaction after a journey of quiet desire. He thought about what Bea insisted, that Katsu was attracted to him, and he could now believe it. He didn't want to make a fool of himself, of course. He decided that when he saw Katsu again he would know what they had. If Katsu was warm and amicable and responsive, then the night was a success. If Katsu was rigid and cold and not affectionate then Spy could only assume that the man gave in to pleasure and regretted it the next day. He was brought to the current moment when Greg kissed him. He opened his eye, careful to keep his false eye shut for now, and saw the wince. Falk assured him, "It doesn't hurt as much as it looks bad... But it does look very bad."

"I'm glad it doesn't hurt you much," Greg pressed another kiss to the unhurt side of Falk's mouth. "I was worried. You're here, though, you're back." He wound a muscular arm around Spy's waist, pressing their noses together affectionately. "Your eye...?" He could see the cut went deep, and it was likely Spy had lost his eye, but he wanted to be sure.

Spy hummed quietly, glad that Greg could be gentle when he wanted to be. He breathed deeply to feel his torso expand against the strong arm holding him near. "It's gone." He answered and opened that eye as well to show the glass sphere. "The damage was too severe. Katsu removed what was left." He put an arm around Greg to stroke his short hair at the area where his scalp met his neck, touching the skin with his nails. "I never left, mon grand. I was hiding in the infirmary. I was afraid you might hate looking at me like this."

Greg pressed as close as he could get to his Falk, stroking his fingers through the other man's hair in return. "Never. I'll always love to look at you," he promised. "Even when we're both scarred old men. Are you going to get a new eye?" That was what Greg was most concerned about. He knew his Spy could adjust to anything, could adapt, but he also knew it would be harder to fight with only one eye. Katsu had performed what seemed like miracles before. Maybe he could do it again.

Spy touched his forehead to Greg's forehead, letting his partner be as close as he liked. "Yes. Connagher is working with Katsu. They're making a robot eye." He knew Connagher preferred more technology terms for it, but it all seemed like science fiction to Spy. "As I'm told, it will be better than my eyes ever were. It can see through walls, and Shields and disguises. Even from a spy." He explained then added, "But... It won't be mine. I'm not letting myself hope it will look like mine." He cupped Greg's face. "Our medic and engineer are taking good care of me. All I need is that you look at me like this after my stitches are out." Falk took a moment to appreciate how unhidden Greg was with his emotions.

Greg nodded, quite seriously. “I promise,” he said, ending it with a kiss. “I’m glad you’ll be able to see. That’s more important than your eye looking the same.” Greg knew what they did was dangerous and demanding but he’d never really expected Falk to come home injured. Falk seemed so untouchable. It put a little fear in Greg, knowing that this had happened. It might be difficult for awhile, to let Falk work. Greg would worry. But more than that he was proud his Spy had come out alive, had survived this wound and had been brave enough to show his lover the wound.

"You say that now. If I return and I look like Dr Cyclops, from that film in town, you might wish I chose an eye patch instead." He teased. He did agree that his ability to see was more important than his appearance. He was not so vain that he'd forget his career as a spy. But he joked to avoid discussing it now. Greg assured him on many levels. He would conquer later his fear of failing as a spy.

***

Katsu prepped his infirmary, getting all the tools he'd need to remove Spy's stitches ready. He wasn't sure when the man intended to come by, but he had nothing better to do and was sure Spy would want the stitches out as soon as he was allowed. He was still feeling low, and the last thing he wanted right now was to work closely with Spy, but he wouldn't turn him away. He couldn't not do his job because he was upset.

The next man to come to the infirmary was Connagher. He was disappointed when he looked around and didn't see the spy. But he chose to stay and wait for him, toying with his new creation and talking to Katsu. 

When Spy joined them he was surprised to see the Texan. He could not be so affectionate, greeting the man who shared his bed. He nodded in greetings "Gentlemen..." He strolled "Are we ready?" 

Connagher lifted his goggles to see the stitches, "you're a mess, spy. I thought I'd see something bad, but... Did you get in a fight with a spy or-" he trailed off and cleared his throat, "I'm sorry about your eye." 

Falk sat on the surgery table, "If the eye you created is as good as your other work, then I assure you. Don't be sorry, it's an improvement." He wasn't sure if he believed his words with as much confidence as his voice had. But he felt good. He was ready to have his stitches removed, he needed to be confident now. "Doctor," he nodded. "I hope you slept well. We need a steady hand today."

Katsu talked quietly with Conagher until Spy came in, talking about muscle attachment to the implant and how unusual the implant really was. When he saw Spy so clearly confident in front of Conagher, he couldn't help the cold anger that filled his chest. He nodded to him. "The procedure's very simple," he said, curtly. 

He had to stand on a stool to reach the stitches properly. Pulling them slightly with tweezers, he slid a tiny pair of scissors between Spy's skin and the black stitch, cutting it. He threaded the stitch out and was pleased to see that there was no blood. The stitches were ready to come out. There were almost 40 stitches and Katsu had them all out in about two minutes. The scar didn't look as bad without the black thread around it. It was a little red still, and Katsu was sure it would fade to be pale. At least it had been a clean cut, with a sharp knife. If it had been a different weapon, or had gone without stitches much longer, the scar might have been much wider. He handed Falk a mirror, silently, then went to Conagher to take the ocular implant in his gloved hands. It was almost beautiful. It didn't look quite like an eye, but it did have an iris and a pupil. It was lighter than he'd expected.

Spy felt the coldness from Katsu. He wished the Texan was gone, to let him speak to the medic privately. He wanted to prove and encourage Katsu to not be too unhappy with what they did the previous night. "What do you think? Will my lovers mind it?" He probed the medic gently with his words. When he received a mirror to inspect himself he accepted it- it wasn't the words of approval he hoped for but it did suit his curiosity. 

Conagher was becoming increasingly excited. His work almost always was with guns, or tools for battle. Of course this was something useful to battle, but it was so different from his usual creation. He gladly put it in Katsu's hands. "Shoot, if the patient was anyone but a spy, I'd ask to take photos. I guess you aren't going to let me document this occasion, are you, Falcon Eye." 

The Spy grunted at the code name. He couldn't argue against it any more. "No, not without my mask."

Katsu ignored Spy's question entirely. At this point, Spy knew how his lovers felt about it. He'd seen Greg, and judging by how confident Spy seemed now, it had gone as well as Katsu had expected. Approaching Spy again, he gave him a chance to examine his scar before speaking. "The scar will fade to white, but it will take some months. I suggest not letting it get too much sun, your mask will be useful for that." Rolling the ocular implant in his hand, he asked. "Are you ready?"

The spy nodded and answered simply "Yes." It was clear to him that Katsu had no patience for listening to him talk or to speak about anything other than his professional work. Spy didn't push him. Maybe Bea misread the doctor after all. Or maybe, as professional and stoic as Katsu was, he kept his bedroom affairs and medical appointments entirely separate. 

Connagher held the Spy's head from behind, "Here it goes!"

Katsu stepped in close, putting his free hand on the side of Spy's head. Touching him was frustrating. He was angry, but part of him couldn't stop fantasizing about what they'd done together. Katsu carefully parted Falk's eyelids and pressed the implant in, making sure it was oriented correctly. If he was correct in his assumptions, the medigun would be able to speed this part up at least a little. It regrows muscle and some types of tissue, and at this point what they wanted was the muscle to attach itself to the new eye. Flicking on the stationary medigun, he let it pour over Spy for a minute. If there was any pain, hopefully it had faded by then as well. He waited to see if Falk could move the eye on his own, if it had attached well enough for him to see through it already.

Falk closed his eyes and then rubbed his eye for a moment.

Connagher worried over him, "Gentle with that. It's a fragile piece of equipment."

Falk nodded and quit rubbing. The pain along the scar line was gone completely. Even rubbing it there was no pain, he knew this meant it was fully healed now. Finally, he opened his eyes and turned both to Katsu, then to Connagher, and then to Katsu again. "Gentlemen?" He asked- it felt well to him, but the professionals would know.

Connagher slapped his own thigh, "Yeehaw!" And threw an arm around Medic to squeeze him. He was as excited for his own success as he was for the doctor's. "It works! God dang, it works!" He picked the smaller man up and spun them both in a circle before putting him down.

Spy winced. The medic was always stoic but he could see his friend was unhappy and not in any mood to be toyed with now. "It is perfect." He touched the bottom eyelid gently. "It might take time to be used to how much I see now."

Katsu wasn't terribly happy to be spun around, but he said nothing about it to Conagher. He was quite pleased with the work they'd done and could understand the excitement behind the affectionate gesture. Falk's eyes seemed to be tracking normally, but Katsu briefly took out a light to inspect both eyes, instructing Spy to follow it with one eye covered at a time. It was perfect, much stronger than his old eye. In a way, he was lucky to have lost that one in particular, it had been the weaker of the two. "You'll be adjusting for some time. I wouldn't be surprised if it takes a month or so." That was usually how long it took for someone to adjust to having one eye after losing it, so it seemed logical to him that that kind of change would take about the same amount of time for Falk to relearn how to see. "You're likely to get headaches at first, I can give you pain killers if you need them." 

"We did well," he gave Conagher a nod. He didn't even seem to have a smile for that.

Connagher put his hands on his hips, "I'm getting drinks to celebrate. You join me when y'all’re ready." He left without a goodbye, jogging off in search of a proper drink.

The Spy was silent at first. Somehow he missed the distraction of the engineer. The Medic could not open the door and simply demand he leave when the Engineer was there. But now he could speak directly, knowing the subject would make the very conservative Texan too uncomfortable. "Katsu. May we speak? Not professionally, but as friends?"

Katsu turned his back to Spy, returning his light to where it belonged and looking for painkillers to give to Falk. "Of course," he said, though it was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. He wanted Spy to leave, to let him work through this by himself. He couldn't bring himself to ask Falk to go.

The Spy commented, "I hope you might look at me and let me speak to your face." But maybe that was too much to ask. "You know that injury and healing is not only physical. There is that other side, something emotional." He stood up from the table and approached Katsu to rest a hand on his shoulder, "What you did for me last night, you helped me. I could not feel so good now if you didn't show me how much my wounds were only in my head."

He did not turn, he stood there with the painkillers in his hands, looking down at them. Spy's confession was not what Katsu wanted to hear and he flinched as Spy touched him. He was glad he'd been able to help, but he wished it hadn't cost himself so much emotionally. "I'm glad," he said, but his voice was stiff.

Falk's heart was heavy with the tone in his friend's voice. It was clear to the spy that he seduced the very private and reserved medic, and pushed his boundaries until their arousal was so built up that it was impossible to stop. Now, Falk believed, Katsu regretted everything they did and could not even look at the spy's face when they spoke. Falk regretted losing the sexual partner, but he regretted losing a friend more. He brought his hand back and suggested "Let's not talk about last night. It's okay to make some mistakes when we need company, it doesn't need to mean anything. This isn't any reason to lose a good friendship or teammate."

Katsu hurt to hear Spy say that the previous night was a mistake. He knew it had been, but it still made him ache to hear that Spy regretted it. Still, nothing would prevent him from working as the man's Medic, and he was determined not to lose one of his few friends. Especially since his time spent with Simo was entirely shared with Spy. It would be like losing them both. Katsu was not gregarious enough to seek out the company of others easily. "Of course," he agreed. "But I-" he hesitated to admit it before finally coming out with it. "I would like some time alone." He knew isolating himself was bad, but it was familiar and he found himself falling back into that habit so easily. It was far easier to be a medic than a friend. He should go out with Falk, spend some time with Conagher, celebrate their success, but he couldn't bring himself to celebrate anything. He was tired and he  _ ached _ .

The spy swallowed silently. He understood the Japanese man said exactly what he meant. He didn't lie to be polite, or say one thing to but mean something unsaid. Of course the Medic would not assure him, or say "I'll join you and Conagher soon" and not mean it. Yet, it stung when the Medic said he wanted to be alone, effectively asking Falk to leave him alone. He nodded, understanding.

"I won't seek you out. When you are ready, you can find me in our room, for poker." It was a ritual to gather there and even if one man was not able, the other two seemed to enjoy some drinks in almost total silence. Until the poker games continued and Katsu was ready to see the spy again, Simo and Falk could wait patiently with something to drink without complaining.

***

Over the next few days, Katsu sank into depression. He slept very little; every time he tried to rest, to lie still, his mind would bring him back to the events of the last few days. Spy’s face as he straddled Katsu’s thighs. Spy saying his name as he came. Spy’s voice as he said it was a mistake. The thoughts were unwelcome and he distracted himself with cleaning the infirmary or reading. By now the infirmary was spotless and he was starting to reread an older book again. He took meals at irregular times so he wouldn’t have to spend time with the team. If one of his teammates had done the same he knew he would have chastised them. Not only for isolating themselves but for messing up their schedule and not sleeping well. But who took care of the Medic when he wasn’t well?

True to his word, the spy stayed away, but certainly noticed Katsu was absent. He prodded his team members with "innocent" comments and the team assured that it was not rare that Katsu eat in his lab while studying. Marcus interrupted the isolation by entering through the doors with a finished roll of medical tape in his palm. "Doc, do you have any more of- shit Katsu, you look horrible." He stated without any soft phrasing- although his tone became softer, almost concerned. "What are you doing? Paperwork?" Marcus approached the Medic's desk and looked past him at the paper. The kanji meant nothing to him, but he might not know what the papers were even if they were English. "That can wait. You need to be in bed."

Katsu couldn’t help a scowl at Marcus’ greeting. Though he was sure it was true and he knew Marcus was a blunt man, he still did not appreciate being told he looked as bad as he felt. “I’m fine,” he assured the Heavy, standing to get more medical tape and press it into Marcus’ hand. “It’s still early, I don’t need to sleep.” Truth be told he was doing paperwork, but only filling in details of Falk’s new eye. It might not be the greatest distraction from thinking about Falk.

Marcus closed his hand around Katsu's when he gave him the medical tape, preventing the smaller man from pulling away, back to his paperwork. "Take some medicine. In this fancy lab you must have something that can fix you up."

Katsu didn't bother fighting Marcus' grip, he knew it would be impossible to escape. It was clear to Marcus that he wasn't well, it was better to be at least somewhat honest. "It's... it's not that kind of sick. I'm just worn down. I'll be alright in a few days." Or possibly weeks, but he wasn't about to tell Marcus that.

Marcus heard what he expected to hear, that Katsu was worn down. He looked exhausted, it didn't surprise him, and he rolled his eyes in response. "Yeah, worn down. You're going to bed and getting some rest." He released Katsu's hand to nudge him to his back to the room in the back.

Katsu briefly fought being pushed back to his bedroom, but gave in after it was clear Marcus wouldn't back down. There were worse things than going to bed early. And it was nice, that Marcus cared enough to fight him on it. Marcus had never been in his bedroom before but Katsu didn't bother demanding privacy. He'd been in Marcus' room to check in on him when he was sick. He'd seen most of the team in their rooms at this point. "Fine, yes, I will rest," he told him.

Marcus started to follow him. When he looked around and saw the tidy bed and the dresser he realised that the doctor needed to change his clothes. He never saw Katsu outside without his shirt, no matter the heat. He never even saw Katsu shower with his team. Marcus assumed he needed privacy. "You probably didn't eat dinner. Look, you get ready. No more work. And I'll come back with soup and tea." He turned to go then stopped, "What's that Japanese tea you drink?" And then he followed the answer with another question, "That's all right when you're sick?"

Katsu was glad Marcus didn't insist on staying while he undressed. He'd have had to fight him on that and honestly he was too tired to put up much of a fight. "Green tea." He'd brought a fair bit with him when he'd come from Japan but now he bought the stuff locally. It wasn't quite the same, but it was still relaxing and he was sure the health benefits were the same. "And yes, it's very good for you." If he thought he'd succeed he might have suggested the team drink that instead of copious amounts of coffee and alcohol. As soon as Marcus was gone, he stripped off his clothing, changing into his nightwear. As with his usual clothing, it covered all his tattoos. He sat on his bed and waited for his Heavy to return.

The giant man was gone for a while. Preparing food was no simple and quick thing for him. He started with soup, which he always thought was basically water and a waste of time. He added vegetables, and meat, and flavours. When he finished he was satisfied with the soup, but it was likely far too much food for the smaller man. Marcus returned with their dinners together. Soup for both, a beer for himself, and a green tea for Katsu. "Ready to eat?" He asked. "It's just soup, but it's better than nothing. And Chicken soup is good for when you're sick." Of course it wasn't medical advice but it was the 'medicine' he grew up with.

Being in his room had become harder for Katsu, especially with nothing to do. It was easy to imagine Spy there again, but he didn't want to. While he waited he dragged a chair in for Marcus, assuming he'd sit for a little while to assure himself his Medic was doing what he'd asked. When Marcus returned, he was a little relieved. He took the soup and tea. Marcus must have made the soup himself, and Katsu was a little flattered that he'd bothered. And he'd brought himself some as well, he intended to eat with Katsu. He sipped the tea. It was very over-steeped, but he appreciated that Marcus had tried. "Thank you," he said. "But you do not need to take care of me, Marcus."

Marcus grunted as he kicked the chair into place and sat down with his bowl in hand and beer at his feet. "You aren't taking care of yourself, Katsu." He stated, "You're a good doctor, you know how to take care of your team, but you take care of yourself last." He shook his head and gulped a generous amount of beer and finished, "you're an important part of this team. You need to take care of yourself as much as you take care of me."

Katsu really couldn't argue with that. He wasn't doing a good job of taking care of himself. He wasn't very good at taking his own advice. Instead of talking, he ate the soup Marcus had brought him and drank his tea. A small part of him wished he could tell Marcus the truth, that he was heartbroken and just needed a little time to get over it. But he didn't want Marcus to know he was queer, and even if he had, it was humiliating, to be used like that and not see it coming. And admitting that a teammate had hurt him might fracture the team, anyway. Marcus was protective of his teammates, even when they were fighting each other. He had no real answer for Marcus. If he promised to do better, he knew he was likely to break that promise. It was more than a habit at this point, it was just the way he was. His teammates' problems were far easier to focus on than his own. So instead they sat silently for awhile and ate.

Marcus didn't mind silence. He definitely preferred silence if the other option was small talk. In the past Katsu and Marcus sat in comfortable silence and maybe even bonded closer through it. But right now, Marcus felt that he lectured his friend into silence. "Fuck," he cussed, pushing food around his bowl with a spoon. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do... Or how to do your job." He quickly added the second part. As highly skilled mercenaries, every man on the team had some knowledge that related to another's field. But it was the fastest way to start a fight or truly anger someone here, to start telling someone how to do their job. Marcus started over, "Look, how about we think of it like this. You take care of me every damn day out there. So I'll take care of you tonight. Good?"

Katsu nodded. "I know you're not trying to tell me how to do my job. You are right. I don't take care of myself." He was willing to leave it there. It was the truth. "You don't have to stay with me, I appreciate what you've done for me already." It was strange, but the heartbreak had also brought on a bout of homesickness. He'd mostly come to think of the base as home, but it was hard not to miss his culture and language sometimes.

"yeah, yeah, I hear you." The Heavy leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, indicating he was not leaving. The chair creaked as he adjusted his weight in it. "I know you're telling me that I did my job, I came and took your nose out of those papers. I can leave you alone now. But what I hear is you telling me to go take care of myself instead of you." He grinned, proud of himself even if he was quite wrong. "Nope, I'm staying right here, till you feel better."

Katsu finished his soup and set the bowl aside on his dresser. He'd deal with that tomorrow. The tea he only half finished. It was so dark for green tea. Marcus had tried and Katsu loved that, but it was difficult to drink. He was starting to realize exactly how tired he was. Even just sitting on his bed he was feeling it, feeling a little relief from his desk chair and being bent over paperwork. Still, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted Marcus to watch him sleep.

The Heavy noticed the Medic was looking more sleepy. He seemed as exhausted as ever, but the warm food and tea, and properly being in bed must be the steps necessary to remind his body to sleep. He settled into his chair and folded his arms across his chest. It was too small of a chair to truly relax in, but he would not bother Katsu with questions for his own comfort now. "Youre ready to sleep?" He raised an eyebrow and lifted his head to see how low the tea was in his cup. "Want me to stay around and talk to you while you nod off?" He was offering to go now only if it was truly to let the medic be more comfortable and to get healthier.

Even though he knew being alone was easier in the long run, Katsu nodded. He was tired. He could sleep. Marcus would leave once he was asleep. For now it was nice to have him here, like a protector. Katsu lay down against his pillow and closed his eyes. He resisted asking the only question that popped into his head; what Marcus had wanted the medical tape for.

Marcus enjoyed the rest of his beer more slowly to avoid sitting and waiting for Katsu to sleep with nothing to occupy his hands. When he did finish the bottle he placed it silently on the ground and waited longer to be sure that Katsu was truly fully asleep. Marcus waited long enough that he settled into the chair and bowed his head forward to be comfortable and fell asleep.

The next morning he was only somewhat awake when he groaned and stretched against the chair and lifted his feet to rest on the bed. He rolled his head back and resumed his rest, unaware of the way he shook Katsu's bed with his motion.

Katsu woke slowly, finally feeling well rested. Upon realizing that he wasn't alone in his room he sat up. Upon leaving Japan he had struggled at first with the concept of wearing boots all over the base, even in bedrooms, Katsu had enforced his own rule of no boots in his bedroom rather easily until now, since usually he was the only one in his room. In the infirmary it made sense to wear his boots, but in his own bedroom? It seemed odd. Strangely enough, Marcus' boots on his bed weren't the first thing to register to Katsu. Just the presence of the other man was so comforting, he momentarily wasn't concerned. Marcus had stayed the night, slept in a small chair, just to watch over him. He must have been very concerned for him. The momentary ignoring that there were boots on his bed changed quickly as he woke up more. He nudged Marcus' feet down with a sharp look at him.

Marcus growled at the nudging and cussed when it continued, "Shit, fuck off!" He was ready to kick in return. He finally opened his eyes and his glare met Katsu's and he remembered the previous night. He removed his feet from the bed and stood up, "What? Are you feeling better?" He rested his hands on his hips, "Did you sleep okay? You look fucking cranky."

Katsu couldn't help a small smile. He'd thought Marcus was more awake than that, to have moved and woken him. He hadn't meant to startle him so much. The angry reaction was very much like the Heavy and it didn't scare or worry Katsu at all. He was used to the man's fury, though it wasn't usually directed at him, he had certainly borne the brunt of it when they were first getting to know each other. "No shoes on my bed," he said first. "But yes. Thank you. I feel much better."

Marcus glanced at the bed and realised he rested his feet on it. "Shit, sorry about that." He knew the medic was particular when it came to cleanliness, and not putting work boots on the bed was something you didn't need a doctor's degree to know. "I'm glad you're better. Do you want to come have breakfast with the boys? You can stay here and take it easy. But take it easy. No working," he smirked, certain that working was exactly how Katsu wanted to pass his time.

He considered for a moment before answering. "I will come out with you."


End file.
